Coriander Boogie

Tags

all in good time, cilantro, coriander, Elaine Stirling, flow, fun and silly rhyming verse, humour, letting things be, plants that bolt fast, poetry, tolerance, vibrational reality

Coriander boogie
got me shakin’
in the morning
got me thinkin’
‘bout my baby and
the ways that we
been stormin’.

Coriander boogie
took me down
where there’s no
‘scaping, showed me
how we’s all behavin’
in a way that
keeps us slavin’.

So then I says to coriander,
what’s a gal to do when
all that’s sweet and green
and leafy turns to spice
that ain’t so nice?
You got advice?

And here’s what
coriander said to me:

You gotta let the green be green,
the fully ripened brings the flavour;
the twigs ain’t meant for eatin’
but they fed the seeds all season.

And the leaves that was
cilantro knew the time
to say, so long, and
that’s the thing you got
to learn that every reason
has its time. There ain’t no
right or wrong, only Mama
Nature growin’ up a bushel
and a beauty of a coriander,
once cilantro song!

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

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Sass

Tags

Dionysian mysteries, Elaine Stirling, Judeo-Christian mysteries, Kabbalah, Law of Attraction, manifestation, narrative poetry, Passover, poetry, Presence, resurrection, return, sensuality, Shekhinah, the power of humor, tolerance, vibrational reality

Sass, she done
come back to the music
thank God! No more
cracking of the spine
no chiropractic twists
to read the print I read
before I signed and
then forgot, so busy
aren’t we now, all
waiting for a sign.

There’s lots of talk
these days about
remembering, as if
a horror hung in front
of us will somehow
keep the dread from
happening again
solemnity, our bed
deprivation of what’s
good and fun become
our newest sexy. Please!

Have you ever
worked backstage
of a preacher man?
Ever listened to a prophet
on a bad day when he
thinks nobody’s looking,
felt the bite of an injured
thrashing pride? Leo knew
best when he sent us that
press release from the
Peaceable Kingdom where
he’s already hanging with
the forever Lamb; they’re
feasting, not weeping, have
been for aeons on cornpone
and ham, pinching hot
sweet buns who are only
pretending to be cross.
Those blood-stained doors
they are always passed
over. It’s Law!

Lordy child, we’ve been
given so many clues and still
we resist a good Mystery. Hung
up on temptation, we pay too
much lip service to serial tragedians
with their pre-written scripts
of betrayal and doubt who are
looking to cast you in roles
you are bound—can you hear?—
you are bound to hate.

Unless your game is
cuffs and whips, you never
have to cry, let me out, let
me out! We are frequencies,
my dear, vibrating contributors
tuneable to everything, joyful
spanners of an ever-growing
Universe, if we’d just stop
throwing wrenches
into the mix.

Now, you don’t have
to like my lip or the cut
of my jib, your furrowed
brow does nothing for me
either. It’s in the rub, dear
friend, what grates and thrills,
what chills and spills our
drinks, these are the sacred
goads, our means and proof
we are alive. We are alive!

The sass, she done
come back for me is all
that matters, now she’s
here and mattering, make
way for she and I don’t
ever look behind. Alleluia!

~~~

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

Flash Cards

Tags

Elaine Stirling, poetry, relaxation, the new story, tolerance

I loved flashcards as a kid. This cool set comes from www.ohgizmo.com.

My arm grew tired of holding
up flash cards of enlightenment
that required nothing of the
flashed except, Yep, yep, yep!

So I held up flash cards of
science, and a well-lettered audience
elbowed each other to show off what
they knew. That grew boring too.

Next I shuffled a deck of religion,
game of tolerance, and things
were okay until I crossed star and
crescent moon in one round. Jesus!

My fourth deck, the last, is empty.
Limitless cards on a white field, I
float them in a pond and others fill
them in–or not. This game might be fun.

© Elaine Stirling, 2012